Unofficial Followers
by De Ore Leonis
Summary: It would take one of the seven demon princes to corrupt the holy Standard Bearer Michael and it would take Asmodeus himself, the demon prince of lust, to make him enjoy it. Asmodeus/Michael.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own angels, demons, heaven or hell etc. They're probably in the public domain anyway

**Warnings:** rated for a reason, contains explicit male/male scenes, dubious consent. This has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with slash. I am not doing this to offend, if it bothers you that much think of it as AU or just don't read.

**Unofficial Followers**

Asmodeus lounged with an air of indolent corruption. This was quite a feat considering that he was sitting on a small, hard-backed and entirely uncomfortable café chair.

He was wearing tight leather pants and a dark shirt that was more unbuttoned than buttoned in the stifling summer air. Such a technique exposed a well muscled chest. His black hair hung just past his shoulders in the style of the romantic poets of old. He had a soft spot for them. His eyes were not particularly remarkable at first glance. It was only in a certain light that they emitted a distinct crimson sheen.

Ordinarily he would prefer to be around more interesting mortals than the haggard waitresses and dull patrons. However he had been invited here and he was curious enough to grant an audience. Besides his attention was focussed on the slim young man who kept shooting him covert glances. He could almost smell his interest.

"Asmodeus." The cold affirmation broke the demon's concentration.

"Yes Michael, Asmodeus. Glad you can still remember my name," he replied irritably.

Asmodeus turned to the archangel and snorted. He was wearing a suit, even in the heat and every bit of clothing on his body was white, even the tie.

"Wow, for your sake I'm glad you compromised and decided to forgo the robe. You do realise that you look utterly ridiculous, don't you? You're a bloody walking cliché."

Michael glared at the demon and eyed his attire. "Better a cliché than a trap to temp the unwary. Surely you've noticed that in the past two minutes alone you have received at least one lustful look from every woman in this place and at least half the males."

"Really? And here's me worrying that I was having a bad hair day," sneered the demon. "They've all got just the wrong amount of experience anyway. Too much for the corrupting innocence angle and not enough to be really fun. Except that one, of course, an unofficial follower for sure, possibly a devout." Asmodeus indicated the blond male in the corner.

"A demon worshiper," Michael's tone went even colder and he looked like he wanted to summon his little flame sword.

"No, you sententious idiot, 'unofficial'. You know: me the demon of lust, him an unofficial follower…" Asmodeus raised a slim eyebrow.

"A whore, you mean." Michael wrinkled his perfect nose.

The demon prince rolled his eyes. "Not in the technical sense, just someone that I could probably have some fun with. Someone who knows a bit more than your average sinner."

"You're disgusting," Michael asserted.

"What? Is it because he's a male? I thought you guys were all for love."

Michael shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Love, yes. Even between two…males or females, but not sex. In fact all sex is bad, if it weren't for reproduction no human should…do it."

"You sound like a school boy, Michael, but I'm sure the Holy Standard Bearer didn't come here to discuss theology with me or to comment on my appearance. Although if you think I'm tempting…" Asmodeus treated the archangel to his most lascivious grin.

Michael pointedly ignored the expression and the last comment. "I'm here to discuss some mortals that I want you to stay away from and some of your little 'followers' that I want you to release."

Asmodeus sat back with a sigh and let the various names and justifications wash over him. Michael would present him with a list later, but he would get unbelievably snippy if he was interrupted mid-rant.

Thankfully he was saved by the young man in the corner. As Michael spoke the café had begun to empty, until apart from the slim male and the two immortals, the patrons had left and the waitresses were in the kitchen.

Michael's mouth snapped shut when the young male walked up to the table. Asmodeus let his eyes roam appreciatively over the swaying hips and he took in the lazy smile.

"Hi there, I was just wondering if that was your business partner or if you were taken."

Asmodeus chuckled at Michael's thunderous expression. He also welcomed the blatant intentions.

"Oh, definitely business partner. I'm rather hurt that you think I could like someone with such an appalling dress sense."

This time the human chuckled before leaning forward and whispering in the demon's ear. "Perhaps I could make it up to you, then."

Asmodeus' expression could only be described as one of unholy delight. He grabbed the mortal by his hips and swung him into his lap. The blond yelped and involuntarily wound his arms around the demon's neck for balance. Michael made a choking sound. Asmodeus smiled at the angel over the mortal's shoulder and held up a hand to keep him quiet.

Michael had no business with a human that wished to make his own choices. That was the point of the whole free will thing. Still, unable to resist, Michael uttered a soft protest. "You don't have to do this."

The blond turned around to face the angel with a smile. "Are you jealous?"

Michael looked away in disgust as Asmodeus kissed the mortal and slipped his tongue between his lips. The blond moaned and began unconsciously rolling his hips against the demon.

Asmodeus let a hand drift down the mortal's chest and slip into his pants. There was a gasp. "In public, I, oh…" the rest of the protest was lost in a throaty moan as Asmodeus began to expertly fondle his new prize. It wasn't long before the human spilled in his hand with a satisfying shudder. Asmodeus licked his fingers and then held his hand out for the youth. He was too far gone to protest and sucked one of the demon's fingers into his mouth.

With lust glazed eyes the blond looked down at the straining leather that still caged the demon. He licked his lips uncertainly. "We could go to the bathroom if you want me to help you with that."

Asmodeus was delighted, but shook his head reluctantly. "I still have business with this one, but I will take you up on that offer. Later." He gave his best predatory smile and let the human stagger away.

"That was appalling," Michael spat.

"You could have left." It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw the archangel flush. It was probably just the rage. He looked good when he was angry. The angel's hair was a little disarrayed, the pale blond strands almost falling across his eyes, if they were long enough. The dark blue eyes veritably sparked with holy fire. It was enough to make the demon salivate.

"I could not have left before delivering the list and you were otherwise occupied."

For the next hour or so he ranted on, until finally producing the hard copy and shoving it across the table.

Asmodeus picked up the scroll as he stood and walked toward the exit. Just as he passed the seated archangel he pressed his lips against Michael's neck for a kiss. The angel moved fast and tried to duck away, but the demon was faster and clamped his teeth into the soft, perfect flesh of his victim's neck.

Holding him still with his teeth, he tasted the skin with the tip of his tongue. Consumed as he was by his lust, he wasn't even aware that he had slipped a hand into Michael's lap to fondle him, until he felt an unpleasant burn against his wrist. Michael had his sword a hair's breadth away from the demon's wrist.

The blade ran with golden fire that singed his skin.

"Get. Off. Me," Michael hissed through clenched teeth. Asmodeus released his neck and slowly drew his hand away.

"My apologies, Archangel. My nature is what it is," he intoned solemnly.

Michael nodded warily and let his sword fade away. Asmodeus couldn't help making one last remark before he left. "It's just that you're _so_ hot, Michael."

The angel spun around with his sword raised, but the demon was gone.

(---)

Asmodeus was stalking restlessly around his private patch of hell. He had an endless supply of souls that he could make use of, many that he had corrupted in person. If he could think of a lust-based desire, then there were dozens of souls that could easily fulfil it and willingly too.

Despite this he was still unsatisfied. He knew what he wanted and he knew that it wasn't going to happen, but that didn't make things any easier. He hunted through his followers in a mindless desperation, but not one of them had that cold, high disdain or that endearing innocence, let alone a combination of the two. He wanted Michael, he wanted the Standard Bearer himself and that was _never_ going to happen.

He shouldn't have gotten so close. The archangel had tasted wonderful.

(---)

Michael returned to heaven, angry and restless. He tried to attend to his duties, but he lacked his usual focus. It was infuriating. The worst part was that he knew the cause of his inattention. Asmodeus, the demon prince of lust, had somehow done something to him, corrupted him in some way. He assumed it was when he had bitten him. Were demons venomous? He didn't know. He would like to know what manner of infernal poison could render him so….distracted.

He was an archangel. He had conquered sin long ago. Gluttony, sloth and greed had never meant anything to him as an angel. Envy was similarly pointless due to his sacred duties. Pride had been harder, so had wrath. His zealous hatred of evil had nearly led him astray and it was hard to remain humble, as an archangel, let alone as the Standard Bearer, but he had triumphed. Lust. That was new. He used to lump that together as an irrelevant sin, like sloth and greed, but now? It was disturbing that this sin proved so difficult.

He sought out Gabrielle. Not to talk to or for understanding, that was not Michael's way. He was a warrior, a crusader. He went to Gabrielle for penance. He knelt before his closest friend and asked for flagellation. Michael always felt better after physical penance.

Gabrielle was reluctant as always. He was a great believer in the power of forgiveness and discussion. However, he acquiesced to his friend's wishes in the end.

Michael's breath hissed between his teeth at every stroke of the whip. Even when his blood was running down his back and between his snowy wings, he refused to ask for mercy. It was Gabrielle who stopped it. Whatever Michael had done, this was more than enough. Michael rose to his feet bitterly and thanked his friend in a terse voice. It hadn't helped. He still felt the same way. He was still consumed by terrible, appalling thoughts.

Michael knew that he would have to confront the object of his torments if he were to be free of this. He donned his armour, raised his sword and descended to the level of hell where he knew he would find Asmodeus.

(---)

Michael? Here? Asmodeus sensed the angel's presence the moment he arrived in hell. What was the Standard Bearer doing here? He cleared his various charges out of the angel's path. He would meet Michael himself and he would find out what he was playing at.

"An unexpected surprise, Michael. What are you doing here?"

The archangel spun around with a scowl on his face and his wings upraised. He was clearly nervous in these surroundings. His eyes widened when he saw Asmodeus. The demon prince had forgone his human form in favour of one that was more demonic.

His skin was tough and leathery but completely smooth and it was the colour of dried blood. Two huge wings sprouted from his back. They were a dark red that was almost black. Claws on his hands and feet were a shiny black like obsidian flakes and the horns that curled from his forehead were of the same substance. He was also stark naked. Michael kept his eyes trained upwards.

The hair and the eyes were still the same, although now his dark hair dripped hellish flames and his eyes veritably _burned_ crimson.

Asmodeus cut a mocking, yet elegant bow. Michael stepped forward. "What have you done to me!" he demanded.

The demon tilted his head to one side. "I believe I just gave you a formal bow."

"Stop playing games, what did you do when you bit me? What did you infect me with?"

Asmodeus' eyes widened this time. A spark of hope stirred inside him. He drifted forward and Michael stood his ground.

"I see, was it perhaps something like this?"

Asmodeus grabbed Michael's wrist with one hand and gently nibbled at the archangel's neck. Michael's breath hitched before he tried to struggle. The demon moved his lips to his victim's ear to murmur a soothing reassurance. Then he forced the archangel back, step by step, until his wings were brushing the stone wall behind him.

He released his prize for the moment. "What do you really want Michael? For things to be the way they were before? Things can't go back, it doesn't work that way. Lust has wormed its way into you. It is insidious, no? Why don't you try and prove you're better than that? Isn't that what you came down here for?"

"Shut up!" Michael roared. "I am better than that and I'm better than you, I want you to release me."

"Release you say? A poor choice of words Archangel, you're in my domain now."

With that he thrust the angel back against the wall with such force that Michael was disoriented for a moment. Wasting no time, Asmodeus knelt before his prize and lifted the unstained loin cloth. As he had expected, Michael was painfully hard.

"No I-" Michael began but he was soon silenced as Asmodeus licked him. The demon prince of lust teased his victim mercilessly. He knew all there was to know about lust and it didn't take him long to coax Michael to thrust into his mouth.

As soon as that little bit of cooperation slipped Michael's control, he took the angel down his throat. Michael threw his head back and screamed. There was a definite edge of pleasure to the sound that cut through the despair. It was unlikely that the archangel had ever experienced something like this before and Asmodeus was thrilled.

Michael slid down the wall when the demon had finally removed his mouth. He was flipped on his front by his tormentor.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now, Michael?" He whispered next to the angel's ear.

"Don't you dare," Michael tried to sound threatening, but his voice wavered.

"I know you want this, but I'm not going to give it to you unless you ask me."

The angel screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. Asmodeus laughed and begun to tease again. He was surprised by how long the angel lasted under his cruelly pleasurable ministrations. It was a full ten minutes before his divine consort uttered a broken 'please'.

No one had ever lasted so long. Asmodeus was impressed.

"Now this will hurt at first due to your angelic nature. Your body will rebel against a demonic violation. However, the deeper I get, the more my nature will override your own and the better it will feel for you. I'm sure you can stand the pain, oh divine soldier."

Michael's body was everything that the demon prince had imagined. This was so much better than taking a mortal. There was pain at the start, even for him. It burned like Michael's blade where he entered the angel, but soon, as his prediction had asserted, it began to feel incredible.

Michael himself was more than had expected. The poor repressed archangel was writhing around and bucking back with a mindless ferocity. Asmodeus had never had someone who fought this act like a battle. He wished he knew what was actually being fought for.

In the end it didn't matter and as he slammed deeper and deeper into the archangel, he heard Michael cry out again. There was no despair in his voice this time and the ecstatic note sent shivers through the demon prince and he spilled inside his beautiful prize.

(---)

Michael shivered despite the heat as the final waves of lust and pleasure wracked his body. The triumphant words of his corrupter repeated through his mind: _things can't go back_. He wondered if he could go back now.

Gabrielle believed in forgiveness and mercy, but what of him? Michael had always believed in harrowing and in the threshing of the wicked. So where did that leave him? He blocked the problem from his mind and curled about his demonic corrupter.

He had an eternity to find an answer.


End file.
